One Hundred Miles with You, Young Lord
by adeptitachipoker
Summary: An attempt to capture the relationship between a silly young prince and his most loyal body guard. Lan Fan x Ling.
1. Military Personnel

**Though this was originally a Royai challenge, I think it fits Lan Fan x Ling. There are so many similarities between the two pairs but of course, Mustang's and Hawkeye's relationship was far more developed in the series. Time to give the cute Xingese couple some time in the spotlight, yes?**

**Disclaimer: I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if I owned FMA.**

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From age six, Lan Fan had received combat training from her grandfather. For a long time, she did not understand why she had to fight. Xing had no need for an army and even if there was one, she would not join. Even as a little girl, she was sure that she was not a soldier at heart. She had heard a few stories of a land in the west called Amestris, where the military was the priority. Burly men clad in blue marched to the battlefield to face the opposing army. With guns and alchemy, both sides fueled pointless carnage and soaked the soil with the blood of their kin.

Lan Fan, still innocent and delicate as her namesake, saw no glory in battle. What was glorious about two groups of people snarling and biting at each other like beasts? _There was no way I will become a barbarian like them_, she thought furiously.

Though Lan Fan had her opinions, she didn't have a say in her fate. Her destiny was set by her ancestors long before she slid out of her mother's womb. To her understanding, she would learn the techniques to slaughter her kind. Her fate was to be a dirty, blood stained killer, not a proud warrior of Xing.

Her grandfather raised an eyebrow at her opinion. "Your duty is to protect the heir to the throne and in doing so preserve the peace of your country. Is that not a noble cause?"

"But I would have to kill members from other clans," she protested. "How can I be helping my country when I'm murdering its citizens?"

"That is how our country works. Kill or be killed. Loss of life is imminent but ultimately, you prevent something precious from being lost. A person to be specific. Along with the bright future that this person will eventually create. We bodyguards have dirty hands, but at heart, we are preservers."

Throughout her training, as her soft lily white forearms become hard with muscle, she recalled her Grandfather's words and those stories of soldiers in the west. Surely, they didn't fight for the sake of spilling blood. One is not born into this world with bad intentions. Each of those soldiers had reasons for leaving the comforts of their homes to the merciless fields of war. Whether they fought to earn money and feed their families or to stop a looming enemy from destroying the tranquility of their hometowns, they had other people in mind as they trudged through hell. Perhaps those men, like her, were preservers.

"Lan Fan," Ling would always call out to her in battle, his voice authoritative but with a hint of petal-like softness. As soon as she heard those words, she would rush to his side.

"Young Lord." Holding a cold knife up in defense and feeling the warmth of her lord behind her, Lan Fan would smile. Soldiers and bodyguards are not that different after all.


	2. Gunshot

Everyone has their preferred weapon. Edward liked to use his automail sword (even though he was guaranteed a stream of smacking from Winry afterwards). Colonel Mustang wore his white combat gloves like a second skin and Lieutenant Hawkeye was always faithful to her guns.

Ling Yao was no exception. Like a clingy infant, his Dao sword always hung in a leather pouch on his back. It was his third partner in crime, in addition to Lan Fan and Fu. The Xingnese carbon steel cut nearly everything Ling desired it to and the rosewood handle molded perfectly into his hand, a fit only time and experience could create. Whether in a battle against fellow Xingese warriors, Amestrian police or immortal villains, his sword and the battle instinct he had obtained from a life of assassination attempts were invaluable and rarely failed him.

However, every weapon was born from human hands. Flawed beings make flawed creations, including his sword. Ling wanted to believe that all of his losses were a result of his shortcomings- he didn't run fast enough, he dodged two seconds too late. If his body was the problem, he could always improve through training.

But sometimes, his failures were not due to his physical inabilities but simply attributed to his choice of weapon. A sword can only do so much: it is only meant to close combat and Ling's enemies rarely stayed close enough for him to land a blow. In a battle against a gun user, a swordsman like him would certainly be at a disadvantage. Swords are also heavier than pistols and as a result are harder to move quickly. Though Ling, whose pale arms were roped with muscle, had overcome these problems through practice, he thought that using a small gun like Lieutenant Hawkeye's would be more convenient in battle.

One situation in which Ling really wished he had a gun was his battle with King Bradley. He wondered if having a gun would have changed the fight's outcome. With a Dao sword, Ling was barely able to defend against the Fuhrer's relentless attacks. Perhaps a gun would have done better; one well aimed gunshot would have left Bradley with a bullet in his head.

One gunshot and Lan Fan would still have her arm.

But in reality, he did not have a gun at the time and there was no way to change the past. No use drowning in regret. This silly prince, already preoccupied with his quest for immortality, had no time to dwell on past events.

All Ling could do was swear that with his sword, he would make his bodyguard's sacrifice worthwhile.

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**At first, I was going to kill Lan Fan or Ling for this chapter. However, that has been done before and I got sick of reading about people dying in the "gunshot" chapter of the 100 theme challenge. Then Buccaneer's discussion about blades vs. other weapons (in Bookwrm389's story "Just Between Us") came to mind.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Battlefield

**I experimented with this chapter. Not sure yet how to feel about the result :P Enjoy.**

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"This is ridiculous," Lan Fan muttered under her breath.

Despite hours of practice and Hawkeye's coaching, Lan Fan stumbled clumsily across the wooden floors, like a soldier unaccustomed to heavy gear. Large smooth surfaces were easy to handle but she silently cursed in Xingese at the sight of stairs.

To her embarrassment, Ling had to help her walk the initial fifty step flight into the Armstrong mansion. _If I wasn't your bodyguard, you'd be in pieces, _her narrowed eyes suggested. Ignoring the frosty glares aimed at him, the dignified golden emperor of Xing continued to snicker like a sugar-fueled toddler.

People brushed against her bare arms. Some gasped, surprised to feel cool metal in place of warm flesh. She felt the heat of human bodies through the thin material of her jade green dress as she trudged through the crowd, eliciting a faint blush on her pale face.

_How can Amestrian women tolerate wearing clothes like this? _Lan Fan thought exasperated beyond belief as she rearranged her dress for the thousandth time. The dress, which got caught on everything and threatened to rise at the slightest breeze, made her feel naked. Floor length with three centimeter wide lace straps, it left her lily white back and chest exposed for curious eyes to see. She was a guard not a concubine! She longed to find her black ninja pants and chest guard before she brought further shame to the Yao clan.

How did she allow May and Winry to convince her to buy the damn article of clothing in the first place? Lan Fan was as resilient as bull and rarely let others steer her away from her convictions. Yet here she was publically appearing in the most revealing and uncomfortable clothing she had ever worn.

Perhaps Ling's feedback had changed her mind back in the department store. Her face burned as she recalled Ling's disbelieving look and beaming eyes at the sight of her clad in jade silk and simple gold jewelry. "You look stunning Lan Fan!"he had finally squeaked after a nerve-racking five minutes.

In the present, Ling noticed Lan Fan's fidgeting and stifled another snicker. "Relax Lan Fan. You were never the type to fuss over your appearance after all."

"T-That's true my Lord. I'm simply not used to Western formal wear," she stuttered, sparing a second to glare at her attire. _Not used to any type of formal wear in fact. _

"

The crowd grew larger and the generously-sized corridor they were standing in swelled chattering women and mustachioed politicians. Mercifully, the two ornate ivory doors opened, leading to the a garish banquet hall. The walls of the corridor visibly deflated as everyone filed into the empty room beyond. Lan Fan subconsciously stepped closer to her lord as they approached the battlefield. Bombs of laughter detonated left and right. An arsenal of foreign conversation assaulted her ears- talk of Amestris' new Ishbal polices; shreds of gossips regarding the various love affairs of government officials; inquires about tonight's dinner. Yes, these were definitely the sounds of a warzone but not quite the same.

As always, Lan Fan was observant, absorbing stimuli like a sponge and being alert to any potential danger, though she doubted that news of Treasurer Thomas' latest one night stand with one of his secretaries would put Ling in physical peril. No, the main danger Ling- and hence Xing- faced was purely reputational. It seemed that no matter which country one is in, reputation matters. Diplomats from the continent's super nations- Amestris and Drachma- were present. This party was a great opportunity to either nourish or weaken Xing's ties with other nations. Thankfully, Ling had already developed a political mask, the product of facing the Xingese public daily. He knew which expression and tone suited the circumstance. And like most public figures, he taught himself to swallow his emotions at a moment's notice if they threatened to break the peace of the situation. As long as he didn't stuff his dinner down his throat in his typical pig-like fashion, he would give the party's participants a decent impression.

She bravely approached this unfamiliar terrain, chin high and back straight as a rod. Like a large pill, she gulped down the anxiety that threatened to bubble to the surface. She was a proud guard of Xing's royal family and her philosophy forbade her to show fear. The two Xingese were mirror images of each other, striding through the crowd perfectly in sync. Like in any fight, she took in her surroundings. Lan Fan had to squint against the explosion of desert sand gold walls and bloody crimson tables. Blinding lights shined like foreign stars from an astronomically high ceiling.

_Another_ _battle, _she thought absently, ironically relaxing a little at the idea of battle. Sure, the soldiers looked a bit different, wearing suits and floor length dresses instead of black protective gear and carrying clutches and wine glasses instead of firearms. No bullets were shot on this battlefield though words were just as fast and deadly. Just another battle, with its own dangers and artillery.

Just another battle alongside her prince.

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**Next chapter: Grave (someone's gonna die. Muhahahahaha).**


	4. Grave

**A/N: I apologize for the delay. College and work have me busy at the moment. As promised, people die in this chapter...kind of. afsgjfjjlagfujd just read it. It's an experimental writing style so give me some slack ^_^' Enjoy this parody of Dave Matthews' "Gravedigger".**

**Thank you everyone who supports this story, especially purplepencils and Dotdodot (thanks for the lovely long reviews~ always a pleasure to read)**

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Grandpa Fu 1845-1915  
He made his children and grandchildren believe,  
That humans are fragile blades of grass in the windy world.  
Proof laid in his withered and worn skin,  
In the countless scars that clung to him.  
To the question "how long will you live"  
he said,"As long as I can."

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Lan Fan 1900 to 1932  
She lost parents and a brother in a clan dispute.  
Though parents should not outlive their children,  
It's wrong for her to live without her mom to embrace her,  
Without her father to teach her,  
Without her brother to learn along with her.  
Life is cruel and death undiscriminating.  
Those who deserve to live should be protected.

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Ring around the rosey  
Pocket full of posies  
Ashes to ashes  
We all fall down

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Ling Yao from 10 to 55  
Dreamed until the day he died  
He wished to be Xing's top man  
He crossed a desert in search of immortality  
Of the ultimate security  
Of the power to create peace  
of the chance to live with his guards forever.  
Oh, 1900 to 1955

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Feel the rain  
I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Gravedigger


	5. Heiki and Heiki

**A/N: Hello again! I bring to you another chapter. Prepare for a bit of angst and OOC.**

**Timeline: Shortly after the Promised Day**

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"I'm fine," he said when Fu noted the bruise-like bags under his eyes. Fu asked him if he had had trouble sleeping. All the old man received was a quick 'no'.

"I'm fine," he said in response to the Elrics' concerned looks. Edward had been recounting his first battle with Lan Fan in Rush Valley.

"I'm fine," he told himself when he found a familiar red and white Yin mask at the bottom of his bag.

"I'm fine," he told Edward between breaths during their last spar together. "Your punches seem half-assed today Ling. Where's that Xingese spirit that's always flowing off you?" the blonde had remarked.

"I'm fine," he said, meeting Gracia's questioning stare as she took his bloody - sleeved shirts to wash.

"I'm fine," he said when Hawkeye caught him looking at his Dao sword as if it was his savior.

"I'm fine," he said as he ran out of Alphonse's hospital room, evading the younger Elric's inquiries about his unfinished bowl of noodles.

"I'm fine," he said when Fu found him an hour later at the remnants of the front gate of Headquarters, where another bodyguard had died. Old eyes widened at the sight of Ling kneeling in the shadow of the wall, holding his sword at his jugular. "I'm fine. I'm fine," the Xingese prince continued like a broken record. "…fine. I'm fi—"

A warm wrinkled hand gently pried the weapon from the boy's hand. "No young lord, you are not fine."

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**A/N I normally don't write stuff this dark. In my opinion, Ling is much to strong-willed and has too many people depending on him to commit the deed, but an author must do what she must to come up with ideas (sorry Ling and Fu). **


	6. Death

**A/N: I was planning to use this scene for another chapter but this scene fit this prompt well. Also, I wanted to avoid writing another "Grave" chapter (these first few prompts are depressing enough). **

**Timeline: Brotherhood episode 61**

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The dying homunculus stared weakly at the black clad figure hovering above him. If he was concerned about the streams of crimson dripping from his shoulders and torso, he did not show it. He was King Bradley after all-a man stoic while facing both life and death. Beads of sweat on his temple were the only signs of his trepidation.

The looming figure was just as stone faced. The smooth material of body guard uniform gave her the appearance of a black marble statue. Her stillness made her look less human, less alive. Only her coal black Xingnese eyes portrayed her emotions. Glaring downward from a glacial white face, her anger and derision shined bright as a light grenade. Lesser men would have crumbled in the face of Lan Fan's fury but Bradley was not one of them. In fact, Bradley looked almost pleased, as if this was an encounter he had looked forward to.

"Have you come to revenge on me, little girl?" he inquired gruffly. Lan Fan raised one her ninja stars as an answer.

"Any last words before I send you to the afterlife?"

"No. You came to avenge the grandfather whom you loved, not to chat with me."

Lan Fan looked at him with disbelief. Hateful eyes were now tinged with flecks of pity. "What a sad life you led King Bradley. Was there no one you cared about? No words of farewell for your friends? For your wife? Have you lived above others so long that you have forgotten the people you value?"

The words nearly lodged in her throat as an image of another king came to mind- a to-be king with rambunctious black hair that matched his manner, with a warm and tolerant nature that she was sure would change Xing for the better.

Was this the destined demise of a king? Would Ling eventually be like Bradley, a pitiful shell of a man with no loved ones to miss, who could not even summon words to say to his spouse?

Would Ling really leave this world without saying goodbye to her?

Bradley heaved another sigh. "Brat, do not lecture me on such trifling topics like love. My wife had the honor of being _chosen_ by me. A will is unnecessary between us."

He turned and stared tiredly at the young Xingnese girl with the eyes of somebody who had seen too much. "That is usually how the relationship between a king and his companion is."

_How perceptive you are, King Bradley,_ Lan Fan's narrowed eyes suggested. She stood up slowly, giving the corpse one last look. He was always surrounded by people but always alone. King Bradley physically had been alive up till a few seconds ago, but she believed that he had died long ago.

Her duty as a body guard is to keep Ling alive but, as Bradley proved, a person can die in more ways than one. She refused to let Ling meet an end like Bradley's. No person should leave this world as empty as Bradley was.

She would be at Ling's side as long as possible, always reminding him of the people he loved.

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**A/N: This ending was very...fluffy. Not sure if that's a good thing. Next chapter is "Crime and Punishment". Shall I dig up my old copy of Dostoyevsky's masterpiece? **


	7. Crime and Punishment

**A/N: I've been watching Avatar the Last Airbender lately which is probably the inspiration behind this chapter. While writing this, I had the series finale in mind in which Zuko confronts his father. I wondered what would happen if Ling was in Ozai's place.**

**Timeline: 4 years after the end of Brotherhood.**

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Ling's first clues that he had a visitor were the sound of distant footsteps and the metallic groan of the outer dungeon door as it opened. The former Xingnese king raised a grubby arm to shield his eyes from at the sudden brightness. Light, which most people embraced and worshiped, caused him cower in the corner. His time in the dark and dank cell had made him an alien to light. If he was ever released from this place, he would forever be a creature of the night.

"Mr. Yao someone's here to see you," the guard grumbled before sliding the door shut. Darkness enveloped Ling once again, making him breathe in relief.

The jingle of porcelain dishes bounce against the stone walls and a few moments later, a pale hand slid a tray of food through the bars of his cell. There was nothing special about his meal- the same bowl of crusty rice and meager serving of vegetables that he received every day. It was the face of his server- barely visible in the poor light but one he recognized right away- that made his heart stop.

His parched mouth could barely form the words that he had tried not to think of since his imprisonment. "L-Lan Fan?"

The face in the darkness was silent for a minute as if contemplating something. Ling could view all of her face except her eyes-the part of her that he wanted to see the most but circumstances cruelly refused to show him.

"Hello young lord," Ling's former bodyguard answered. Part of Ling felt elated to be addressed as such after a long time. Both the stale air of his cell and water seeping into his thin prison clothes quickly reminded him of his bitter reality. The days when he was called "young lord", the months when he and Lan Fan and Fu freely traveled the world, were long gone along with his youth. Muscular arms from his fighting days were atrophied and his once spiky hair was now lank and far too long.

Before his imprisonment, Ling had gained a philosopher's stone, become Xing's king and made his country prosperous for a short amount of time at the expense of his physical and mental health. Stress was an insidious cancer that ate at him day and night. Eventually, he turned to opium and all went downhill from that point on. Decisions, when made, were careless and ended with complaints from the citizens. With the decline in trade the streets of Xing, once bustling with local and foreign merchants, became filled with beggars. Crime became rampant and prostitution became commonplace.

Four years after Ling's inauguration, the Chang clan- led by May and her sidekick panda- ousted the corrupt emperor with little trouble. By that point, all of the clans agreed that Ling Yao was not fit to rule and thought that anybody else would be a better leader. The Changs claimed the throne and Ling was thrown in prison where all Xingnese criminals remain for the rest of their days.

Lan Fan pushed the tray of food closer. "Eat. Keep your strength." The words were meant to be caring, but Ling flinched at her icy monotone. What was the point of eating? His country would never forgive him for his negligence. He fell from a position that rivaled God's to a position lower than a dog. This cell would be his home until the Devil dragged him to hell.

Leaning forward, he thought nostalgically of brighter days, of the firm but kind voice in his memory chiding him over something trivial as they walked under the Amestrian sun.

He glanced disinterested at the splintered chopsticks and the yellowed radish in his chipped bowl. Despite the circumstances, he let out a hollow chuckle.

"A king following his body guard's orders. There's something not right with this picture."

Lan Fan, who had been sitting still as a stone this entire time, spoke. She delivered her words in a low voice, like the quiet before the storm. "When we were in Amestris, I saw a selfless man who wouldn't let those he cared about fall into turmoil. 'A king lives for the people' is what you told Bradley as you carried a bleeding and useless me on your back."

Ling really wanted to see her eyes, but those stayed behind a veil of ebony. They were probably brimming with hate and sadness but they were probably brighter than anything in this cell.

"Why have you gone against your words?" she hissed. "Why do you let your people starve and commit dirty deeds to survive?"

The words were a slap to Ling's face, stinging as a sharp wind. A warm drop hit Ling's hand through the bars. He lifted his finger to his mouth and tasted salt. Lan Fan continued, unrestrained and merciless. "Long ago, I promised to protect you until you reached your goals. As long as you had the interest of the people in mind- as long as you had the mindset of a king- I would be at your side. But can you really call yourself a king Ling Yao?"

Lan Fan stood up and wiped her brimming eyes. She looked down at the grimy, malnourished man sitting on the stone floor one last time before turning her back to him. A flash of painful light as the prison door opened and she was gone.

Ling knew and accepted that he had lost his followers long ago. He couldn't understand why losing this particular one hurt so much.


	8. Store-lined Streets

**A/N: Since I've been reading Bookwrm389's stories lately, I'm not surprised that this chapter was inspired by her story "Customs". I highly recommend reading it (the ending of this chapter would make more sense if you did) and the rest of her fabulous stories. Here's a link: s/6222338/1/Customs. Basically, the plot of her story is Ling convincing Lan Fan to wear earrings. This chapter is a branch off of her idea.**

**Timeline: Shortly after Chapter 32**

Rush Valley was just as busy at night as it was during the day. The sun had long dipped behind the mountains, yet the town was still gold and orange with light. The sounds of civilization echoed through the streets. Children pounded their feet against the earth as they walked home with their parents; tittering laughter and bad jokes could be heard from behind the lit windows of a local bar. Even at the late hour, merchants sat on metal stools at their tents, offering deals on everything from jewelry to automail parts.

Perched on a random roof, Lan Fan watched all the life on the ground below her. Her ebony eyes locked on one person after another with the focus of a hungry hawk eyeing a rodent. She watched an old man on a bench, gazing the night sky with admiring eyes. A boy fumbled at a coin on the street and later got scolded by his mother. At the corner of her eye, a man with an automail arm took out his trash before returning to his shop. Light giggles to her left made Lan Fan turn her head where a young Amestrian couple were holding hands while walking among the store-lined streets.

One might say that body guarding was a lonely job but Lan Fan did not mind it. She wasn't a social person to begin with. This was a routine for her. Every night, she spent hours watching out for any threats and in the process watch people laugh at jokes she couldn't hear or understand, young lovers kissing in the dark security of an alley, old business owners sitting on a porch and sharing drinks. This was her job and she did not mind facing the cool Amestrian nights if it meant protecting her young lord from danger.

She looked away from the street to reach for the canteen of water that hung at her waist. If no assassins had shown up so far, she could trust that none would appear in the five seconds when she wasn't watching. With deft fingers, she unclasped the dented tin container from her hidden belt and quietly screwed off the lid. She lifted the bottle, chilled by the wind, to her warm lips and drank. She savored the feeling of the cold life- giving water sliding down her dry throat, expecting the shivers that coursed through her body.

What she didn't expect was the large warm hand that rested on her shoulder.

On pure reflex, she leapt forward and away from the foreign appendage. Her cold fingers gripped her _shuriken_ which she had whipped out just seconds before. Legs and arms locked into a fighting stance as they had in countless past battles. Her eyes darted back and forth like searchlights, searching for the mysterious intruder in the darkness.

Said mysterious assailant made no move to action. In the darkness, Lan Fan could see him raising his hands above his head as a sign of surrender. She finally lowered her weapons when she saw a familiar goofy grin.

"Young lord, why are you outside?" she hissed, her ephemeral relief shifting to anger. "It's not safe out here! You could be spotted by assassins—"

"Relax Lan Fan. If we haven't been attacked in the last couple days, I think we're safe," the Xingnese prince countered quietly. He lay against the cool slates of the roof and let out a content little sigh. Despite the fact that he was an illegal immigrant with many enemies at his back, he stared at the expanse of stars like a child, without a single care in the world.

Lan Fan scowled. Really, why was the young lord such a _teenager_? "Not true. The Elrics attacked us two days ago."

"Err…well. They only attacked us because we started the fight and we were trespassing into their nation. At least none of our enemies from Xing have found us yet."

"But they might if we're careless like this."

"They won't Lan Fan. They're an entire desert away. Relax."

The female bodyguard sighed. Like usual, the prince was like an old bamboo stalk, hardened by the merciless elements, stubborn and unrelenting. She had been through this process too many times and she already knew the outcome. Although she and Fu were Ling's bodyguards and had the authority to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, Ling usually had his way.

He had shortcomings—cringe-worthy table manners was one—but this persistence, his sense of justice, his deep set belief that he was ultimately in control of his destiny compensated.

Sometimes, she thought as she stole a glance at the placid face gazing at the sky that was the quality that made Ling fit to rule Xing one day, the quality that would allow him to _survive_ as king and as a member of this merciless world. She admired him for that.

Not that she'd ever tell him that.

She plopped down in resignation beside Ling, who had fallen silent as if contemplating something. If he refused to go inside, she would stay by his side and guard him until he changed his mind.

"Lan Fan."

Immediately, she knew he was serious. After knowing him for her entire life, she learned to recognize the nuances in his voice, the subtle lift to his voice when he was jovial and the somber weighty tone that he used when he wanted to talk about something important.

"Yes young lord?"

"… So, there's a reason why I came out here tonight. Of course I had a reason. Otherwise, Fu wouldn't have let me out of the hotel. So um…"

It was strange to hear a discomposed Ling, tripping over his words like a boy asking a girl out on a date. Lan Fan-who faced opponents twice her size, climbed buildings daily, and crossed a desert without trepidation-was beginning to feel unnerved by Ling's uncharacteristic behavior.

Lan Fan noticed that Ling was holding out two small plastic white boxes towards her.

"Which do you like: opal or amethyst?"

"…what?"

"Which do you prefer?" he insisted, starting to regress to the whiny teenager again. "You didn't answer my question the last time I asked you to wear earrings so I'm going to try again."

Despite the cold, Lan Fan's ears burned red as hot coals. "Not this again young lord! I told you last time that I cannot accept such a gift. I'm not worthy of—"

"What's the harm of accepting a gift from a friend? Especially if that friend is the future king of Xing."

"I said no!"

"C'mon Lan Fan. You'd look gorgeous with them on! Fu and I already bought them for you at the market."

Lan Fan sighed, exasperated and miserable. "Young lord…"

In the end, she took them but swore that she would never wear them. She was a bodyguard not a princess. Jewelry just didn't suit someone in her position. But secretly, she always kept Ling's precious gift to her- a pair of simple white opal studs-tucked safely in her pocket.


End file.
